The Finer Points of an American Tradition
by domina tempore
Summary: Tony tries to educate Thor on the "great American Tradition" that is Thanksgiving. It's harder than it sounds. (Tag to DinerGuy's "A Nostalgic Holiday)


**Avengers: **_The Finer Points of an American Tradition_

_Disclaimer: Avengers, its characters, locations, and the whole of the Marvel universe belong to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended!_

_Author's Note: Inspired by my wonderful friend DinerGuy's "A Nostalgic Holiday". I read hers, and it woke up my muse and demanded writing and things...and stuff...and apparently this happened. Happy Thanksgiving, to all those who celebrate. And if you don't...thank you for reading this anyways, haha. _

_Enjoy!_

_(ps.I apologize to Bichon Frise lovers, I actually think that they're lovely dogs!)_

oo

"That smells delicious!" Thor's voice thundered through the rec room as he stumbled in. "What is it?"

"Um, that would be Thanksgiving," Clint informed him from his perch on an arm of the couch, his eyes glued to the television. It was currently broadcasting the annual dog show.

Thor was distracted for a moment by the screen, on which panted a small, fluffy white dog. He squinted at the tiny words at the bottom of the screen. "_Bac-hon fries_?" he sounded out slowly."Bacon fries? What in the name of Midgard is that?" His forehead wrinkled in confusion. "We have no such creatures on Asgard. I was under the impression that 'bacon' was a sort of edible delicacy..."

"_Bacon_ is. But this thing isn't bacon; it's actually a _Bichon Frise_," Tony pronounced the words with an exaggerated French accent. "That's a type of dog, you may have heard of _those_ before."

"It looks like no dog that I have ever seen," Thor sniffed disdainfully.

"Yeah, most of America would agree with you; but apparently it's a thing." Tony shrugged and flopped down on the couch. Natasha, who was taking up half of it, rolled her eyes and swung her feet up to rest on his lap. "And, I should clarify that it isn't _Thanksgiving_ that you're smelling, it is Thanksgiving _dinner_. A beautiful, American tradition that the Cap and Pepper just happened to decide to go all Martha Stuart for." He chuckled. "Don't tell them that I said that."

"I still don't understand who that is!" Steve called from the kitchen.

"I am afraid that I also fail to understand the reference," Thor admitted. He made a move towards his favorite armchair, but stopped after two steps and glanced back in the direction of the kitchen. "So...what exactly does this Dinner of Giving Thanks consist of?" he asked, so obviously trying to be casual about the whole thing. "Is there mead? Roasted boar?"

"Um, no." Tony shook his head. "Unfortunately, it's really hard to find good mead this time of year. Ow!" He rubbed his cheek where Natasha's bare foot had kicked him and glared at her. She gave him a wicked smile. "Hm. _Anyways_, as I was saying, on Thanksgiving, we eat turkey. I'm pretty sure that they've got at least three of them in there, actually, all with these fancy glazes and different stuffings..."

"Stuffings?"

"Stuffing is...well, it's hard to explain. But it can be made out of bread, or rice, or apples, or –"

"Just trust the man, it's good," Clint said, eyes still on the screen. "Could you guys keep it down? I already had to hear the Iron Giant here yapping on the phone for ten minutes –"

"For your information, Legolas, I was inviting _Coulson_. He is a very important member of our team, and should be sharing this holiday with us."

"Didn't Pepper tell you to call him about this like, a week ago?" Bruce asked, wandering into the room and covering a yawn. He paused to take in the four faces turned towards the screen. "Wow, is the dog show really that interesting this year?"

"Do you all enjoy stomping on people's dreams?" Clint demanded. "Why don't you go steal a kid's ice cream cone, or something?"

"Relax, Clint," Natasha sighed, patting his knee. "Some people just don't understand."

"I confess that I understand very little at the moment," Thor put in helpfully.

"Um, excuse me?" Tony waved a hand. "I was _trying_ to educate Brutus here on the finer points of the American tradition. There is _so_ much more to Thanksgiving than turkey and stuffing."

"Like sweet potatoes with marshmallow, green bean casserole, rolls, gravy, cranberry sauce, pumpkin pie..." Natasha ticked off on her fingers with a smirk.

Tony frowned at her. "I sense that you are mocking me," he accused.

She shrugged carelessly and leaned her head back against Clint's legs. "I'm Russian. We don't do Thanksgiving."

Thor still seemed confused. "So there is a feast. Is this the purpose of the day, to give thanks for the bounty that you consume?"

"Yes!" Tony and Clint said at the same time.

"Not exactly," Bruce began.

"If you would like, I could prepare a brief lecture on the history and lore of the Thanksgiving tradition," JARVIS offered. "The first Thanksgiving in America was celebrated in the year 1621, and was attended by –"

"Yeah, JARVIS, can we save the lesson for after we're passed out on the couch watching football? That would be much appreciated, thanks."

The sound that JARVIS made could only be described as a long-suffering sigh. "As you wish, Sir."

For a few minutes, the conversation seemed to be on hold in favor of the dog show, as some of the more interesting looking breeds were showed. Thor was pretty perplexed with the whole affair; why would humans consider such small and funny-looking animals to be pets, and why did they desire to show them off as if they were some sort of prized artifact? Clint was still bizarrely fascinated, and Tony kept up a running commentary on how ridiculous it was to cut a dog's fur in the way that some of the breeders did it; if someone had cut _his_ hair into patterns like that, he certainly wouldn't want it showcased to all of America (unless he was drunk, then Pepper would be the one who wouldn't Tony to showcase it to all of America). Besides, what did dogs have to do with Thanksgiving, anyways?

They were mostly quiet and well-behaved for about ten minutes, until Natasha casually pointed out that a certain dog on the screen bore a remarkable resemblance to Bruce.

"I don't see it," Clint said, squinting at the screen. "Nothing like Bruce at all."

"I agree," Thor rumbled.

"While there is a resemblance," Tony allowed, making a so-so gesture with his hand, "we all know that the only _real_ dog on this team is me."

With impressive accuracy, a wooden spoon flew through the air and hit him neatly in the back of the head.

"Ow!" Rubbing his head, Tony turned to see Pepper standing in the doorway, hands on her hips. He made an effort to look innocent. "Oh, hey, honey. What's up? Please tell me that the food's almost ready."

She smiled sweetly at him. "It will be when I'm sure your last statement was referring to your _past_, not your present."

Tony ducked his head. "You're the only girl for me," he mumbled dutifully. Pepper raised an eyebrow. "And I promise that I really have given up my old ways, and that I will never again stray from your side. Although, Natasha is making it very difficult, laying all over me like that." He glared at the redhead.

Pepper glanced at the woman, who shrugged. "I kicked him in the face earlier," she offered.

"Ah, so just keeping him in line then. Doesn't sound like a problem to me."

Clint and Bruce chuckled, the former turning to fistbump Natasha. Tony rolled his eyes. "Alright, fine, we're all _very thankful_ that Tony Stark is around to make fun of. Now can we please eat? I'm starving!"

"Phil isn't here yet," Pepper admonished. "Since you called him so last-minute, now you have to wait for him."

"Honey..." Tony whined, earning more inappropriate giggling from the team.

Luckily for him, Coulson chose that moment to arrive, a bottle of wine in one arm and an exceptionally gorgeous woman on the other. Tony's mouth fell open as the agent stopped in the doorway. When he had heard that the man had a girlfriend, he'd expected someone more...well, like Coulson. This woman could have been a model.

"Hello, everyone," he greeted, looking around at the bulk of the Avengers sprawled across Tony's furniture. "I'm sorry I'm late."

"You're right on time," Pepper assured him, crossing the room to give the man a hug. "It's good to see you again, Phil. And this must be that lovely cellist I've heard so much about."

One wouldn't have thought it possible for the unflappable agent to blush, but he did, his cheeks turning ever so slightly pink as he smiled. "Pepper, this is Veronica. Veronica, this is...well, these are the –"

"We're his family," Tony said, finally recovered from his shock.

Clint snorted. "Yeah, the family that he doesn't want to admit that he's related to."

"You can ignore them," Pepper said. She rolled her eyes, but there was a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. "They go a little crazy if you don't feed them on their regular schedule. But it's nice to meet you, Veronica."

The woman was looking at all of them with wide eyes, and there was little doubt that she knew _exactly_ who they were. "It's very nice to meet you, too," she said with a dazed smile.

A moment of awkward silence fell over the group.

"Well, since the two of you are here, and I think that Captain Patriotism has just about finished cooking, why don't we head in to the dining room?"

"Ah-ah!" Pepper shook her head. "_You_ will be heading into the kitchen to help Steve bring out the food, while I show our lovely guests in."

"Thank you," Coulson said as he and Veronica followed her through to the dining room. "It was a bit short-notice, but we really appreciate the invitation..."

Tony stalled as the rest of the Avengers headed into the kitchen to assist Steve. "Guys, I'm sure that Rogers can do it himself. He's a big boy, you know."

"Your assistance has been requested," Thor reminded him gravely. "And you would do well not to upset Miss Potts on a day that is meant for sharing and the giving of thanks." He disappeared into the kitchen.

Whistling, Tony shook his head. "I am _so_ thankful that I get to be in charge of the next holiday," he muttered to himself.

"Tony!"

"Alright, I'm coming! Gosh, keep your shirt on! Unless, you know, it's Natasha –"

"_Tony_!"

"Okay, Pepper, I was kidding! Hey, you're still gonna let me watch football tonight, right? Pepper?"

_fin._

_Note: My apologies for giving the cellist a name...I normally don't do that, but I couldn't just leave her standing there and not introduce her. Besides, Coulson deserves to have a nice girl. ;)_


End file.
